Bambi and Thumper

After School

"Spike cornered me today," Thumper said to Bambi's reflection in the boys' room mirror. Both the girls were fussing with their hair and makeup.

"And?"

"Well, he says that you just have to help him in English and Arithmetic after school is all."

"I can't."

"Get off it. You're one of the smartest kids in school."

"That may be true but a lot of good it's done me."

"Look if you help him—you know, kind of fraternize with the enemy—maybe they'll lay off us."

"No!" Bambi screeched, throwing his brush at his reflection. "Look at me! Isn't it enough that I have to play fuck-me-now in front of everyone, everyday? Don't you see what's happening?"

"Haven't a clue," Thumper said, tossing his head and focusing on his reflection.

"It happens all the time. A kidnapper starts out tough and real mean. Then suddenly he lightens up. The victims always get tricked into forgetting they're the victims. They get attached to their tormentors. Sometimes they even fall in love with them."

"You know what I think? I think you're crazy. That's what I think. That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. I for one hate and will always hate what's being done to us."

"Me too. That's why my answer is no."

Thumper cocked his head, delighting in his blush and eyeliner. And why not? He'd gotten quite a bit good at it—even outdoing darling Bambi.

"You can't say no," he smirked, looking straight at Bambi.

"And why is that?"

"He fails–he stays back yet another year."

Bambi couldn't even conceive of what that would mean. "Tell him, I'll meet him at four in the library."

"Nope. He wants it away from here. You're to go to his place.'

"His place?" Bambi whispered, trembling noticeably.

"Yep. No way does he want anyone seeing him with an avowed homosexual."

Bambi gazed into the blackness of the sink drain–like it was a crystal ball–all hope swirling down it.

"Tell him... Tell him... Okay."